


and fathoms below.

by serenitysea



Series: the golden age is over; olympians au [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 10:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or; five gods that visited raina in the underworld.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and fathoms below.

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place somewhere beginning/during/after 'i'm always in this twilight (in the shadow of your heart)' and you'll probably want to read that at some point for reference.

 

> **coulson | zeus** king of the gods  
>  **may | hera** queen of the gods  
>  **raina | hades** goddess of the underworld  
>  **mack | posiedon** god of the sea  
>  **audrey | demeter** goddess of the harvest  & fertility  
>  **mike | hester** god of family  
>    
>    
>  **trip | apollo** god of the sun  & music (twin to artemis)  
>  **jemma | artemis** goddess of the moon knowledge  & the hunt (twin to apollo)  
>  **maria | athena** goddess of war  & wisdom  
>  **skye | aphrodite** goddess of love  
>  **ward | ares** god of war  
>  **fitz | haephestus** god of the forge  
>  **lance | hermes** messenger of the gods  
>  **quinn | dioynsus** god of wine  & theatre

 

 _other works in this series_ :

[setting fire to our insides for fun](http://thesoufflegirl.co.vu/post/100446489735/setting-fire-to-our-insides-for-fun) (skyeward) |  
  
   
  
  
  
**lance**.  
  
"What do you think?" Lance says, trailing a hand through the air and watching sparks fly and burst into the depths of oblivion that is the Underworld. "We could make a go of this, you know. The distance is hardly an issue for me and —"  
  
"—Stop talking." Raina doesn't have the strength to do more than roll on top of him and force his mind onto more important matters. "Or do I not keep you busy enough?"  
  
"Hmm," he leans up to bite teasingly at the corner of her mouth. "Perhaps you had better," Lance swallows audibly as she shifts _just so_ , "remind me."  
  
"Shouldn't be a problem," she murmurs, flipping their positions to lay beneath him and fisting his hands above her head.  
  
*  
  
**skye**.  
  
The Love Goddess literally falls on top of her, knocking the air from her body in a _whoosh_.  
  
"Oops!" Skye laughs, and Raina has the haziest view of a red string wrapped around her own wrist and traveling upwards beyond where she can see. The moment Skye clambers off her, the string disappears and she feels herself settle back into the moment.  
  
"Skye." Her voice is measured, even tolerant for one who has just been squashed on their own throne.  
  
"Wanted to see what all the fuss was about," the Goddess of Love fidgets uncomfortably under Raina's unblinking stare.  
  
"I'm sure this wasn't quite what Coulson had in mind when he mentioned taking some time to clear your head."  
  
Skye grows somber. "People die in the name of love all the time, you know."  
  
Raina does know. She sees them every day.  
  
"It's not right," Skye continues. "But sometimes it can't be helped."  
  
It is unusual for the Love Goddess to be so uncharacteristically subdued and it has Raina worried. "Skye —"  
  
"We don't choose who we love, you know." The darkness around her does nothing to hide the bright aura of Skye as she expresses her convictions. The Underworld is Raina's domain but Love is Skye's, and this is clearly something she feels necessary to impart. "Not even I have that luxury."  
  
Something clicks for her and Raina tilts her head in barely stifled exasperation. "If this is about Ward —"  
  
"— No." Her refusal is abrupt, unpolished. Whatever she's talking about is important and unrehearsed.  
  
Raina feels a moment's pity for the younger goddess, as she struggles to voice her concerns in a coherent manner.  
  
"It's about you." Skye boldly presses on.  
  
The temperature in the Underworld drops by several degrees and the torches lining the walls flicker alarmingly.  
  
"That topic is not up for discussion, even with you."  
  
While she has every right to push the issue, Skye remains mercifully silent. She does, however, refuse to be intimidated and steps closer to the dark goddess. "Don't give up."  
  
Before Raina can chastise her for the cryptic statement, Skye is gone.  
  
She rolls her eyes.  
  
She spares half a second's thought to the curious red string and dismisses it promptly. Probably just another illusion Skye had created to get her to talk.  
  
Thank Hera she hadn't fallen for it.  
  
*  
  
**ward**.  
  
  
When Ward comes to visit, it feels like bodies and screams pounding to get into her head.  
  
Raina takes a moment to erect the mental barriers needed to properly face the God of War.  
  
He still prefers the casual dress of leather and dark jeans to the ceremonial garb he used to wear centuries ago with the patronage of the Ancient Greeks. She knows it's Skye's influence more than anything but privately agrees that the muted look suits him.  
  
"You've got to stop." She bluntly announces, walking to where he is leaning arrogantly on the wall.  
  
Eyes wide and arms folded defensively, Ward asks, "Stop what?"  
  
Two dozen men file past with disgustingly gruesome fatal injuries. She raises her eyebrows pointedly, and throws in a slashing hand gesture for good measure. "Fighting with Skye."  
  
The anger that radiates off Ward is a near visceral thing but she holds her own against the physically larger God.  
  
"Remember where you stand," Raina cautions in a low, deliberate tone. (Ward will never admit that it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.) "You would do best to obey me in this realm."  
  
The War God holds his ground, aggression emanating from him in feverish, heated bursts. "You don't scare me."  
  
"Then you're less intelligent than I had given you credit for. Clearly, the passing millennia have done little for your  maturity and wisdom."  
  
When Ward moves to strike, Raina splays the fingers of her hand open wide — a frightening obsidian staff forms, fitting itself into the grooves of her right hand. "Stand _down_ , Ward. This is not a fight you can win."  
  
He snarls fiercely but does as she says.  
  
When it becomes clear that he will not pursue his scare tactics further, she closes her eyes to try and determine the cause of his misplaced anger. There is a maelstrom of emotion swirling around inside him and she has to battle twice to hang onto the thread.  
  
"This is about Fitz?" She incredulously asks, opening her eyes to see the twin expressions of outrage and embarrassment race across his features.  
  
"So what if it is?" Ward challenges, barely checking his anger despite the very real threat of her deadly weaponry. He is a strategist and a master in battle; he well knows this battleground is not one he can hope to come out on top.  
  
"Fitz and Skye… It's _nothing_ ," Raina attempts to explain. "I haven't been Above in eons and even _I_ know that."  
  
"I'm not sharing her with anyone, least of all him."  
  
She sighs heavily. "Go back to Olympus, Ward. I'm not interested in fighting. There's nothing for you here." _Except the results of your latest argument_ remains pointedly unsaid.  
  
He sends her one final dark look and vanishes.  
  
Seconds later, an entire _legion_ of men arrive in the Underworld. She glares upward before grimly setting to work and sorting through the newest additions.  
  
*  
  
**trip**.  
  
  
She feels him before she actually sets eyes upon him, as the golden heat spreads through her from fingers and toes to radiate inward until it begins to encircle her heart.  
  
"Hey," a large hand spans her waist and pulls her into unforgiving armor and what feels like a wall of muscle.  
  
Raina cranes her neck around to look at Trip. "Hello."  
  
"What's a guy got to do to get see his lady around these parts?"  
  
She shrugs delicately. "Die."  
  
"Not funny." Trip fixes her with a stern look, shifting so he can keep her tucked into his side while she continues sorting through souls.  
  
"Maybe just a little." Even her humor is tinged with dark truths and loss. That he sees it as a joke is more telling of him than of her.  
  
"How much longer?"  
  
They both glance at the rows of people waiting to be judged and he watches as she squares her tiny frame in determination.  
  
"Three hours."  
  
Her timing is never off, and the fact that she won't shirk her duties simply because he's there is admirable, if not somewhat inconvenient. He can't blame her for it; it is the fairness and fortitude she shows day in and day out to accomplish her somewhat thankless job that drew him in the first place.  
  
"I'll be waiting."  
  
A quietly pleased smile breaks across her face and she nods once, briefly.  
  
Trip stares until she has moved well into the masses and leaves her to her work. As a god, he could watch her until the three hours are up. She'll finish precisely on time — it's not that he worries she'll get lost in her work.  
  
It's just that the work that she does feels so private. It is intrusive to have his bright light blinding those who she would judge.  


*

 **jemma**.

  
Calm and serenity settle with a faint chill in the air. Raina looks to see Jemma standing before her, clad in her luminous white column dress, the same one she's worn for ages. Jemma prides herself on remaining consistent.  
  
"You're the last person I'd ever expected to see here." Raina stands up from her throne, coming to meet the Moon Goddess and offering her cheek for a kiss.  
  
Jemma obliges and steps back in a measured way. "This isn't a social call."  
  
"I figured as much," she says. "Have you come to bargain for one of your followers' souls?"  
  
"No."  
  
Her workload has been lightened these days, which would make it seem as though Ward has made his peace, ironically enough, — however temporary — with Skye. Even Maria has been surprisingly silent and her warfare hasn't resulted in much bloodshed to speak of. Still, Raina is not a mind reader and she doesn't have the luxury of knowing much of what goes on above the surface. She hardly knows what brings Jemma to her domain if not bargaining for a lost soul. There is nothing further Raina has that would be of any value to her.  
  
"I'm afraid I missed the memo." The nerves building in her stomach aren't helping matters. "Allow me to speak frankly: why have you come to the Underworld?"  
  
"If you love him —" and suddenly there is no question why she has come, and it's _so much worse_ than Raina could have ever predicted. No one was supposed to know. Other than Skye (whose domain it would literally fall under), none of the gods had any inkling of what had transpired between herself and Trip. They had gone to great lengths to keep it that way.  
  
"— Let him _go_." Jemma's face is set in cool marble, impassive and cold. "What business does light have with dark?"  
  
It takes everything she has to physically gird herself against the _agony_ that tears through her at Jemma's devastating question.  
  
Because it isn't as if she hasn't asked herself the same thing hundreds of times. Every time his warm hand caressed her skin. Each kiss shared. All the tender moments when the sun went down and the dead took a rest.  
  
When the world stopped, just long enough for them to catch their breath.  
  
Just long enough to be safe.  
  
And honestly, it had to end someday.  
  
She's been delaying it since before they started it. Trip is stubborn, unusually so. But she can make this right. She can push him away. For humanity. For the balance. She _has_ to.  
  
What she has, what they had together — it's enough. More than she'd ever hoped for. It's more than she ever deserved.  
  
"You're right," Raina quietly says, lifting her eyes to the other goddess.  
  
"I know." Jemma stands poised before her, not triumphantly smug or unkind. "A fortnight should be ample time to dissolve your relationship."  
  
Raina distantly appreciates the rational approach being taken. It removes the mess of emotions from the entire thing, and spares her from falling apart where she stands.  
  
"Yes," she says dully.  
  
"Brilliant. I knew you'd see reason." A wide silvery beam of moonlight comes from the barren ceiling of the underworld and engulfs Jemma to transport her back to Olympus.  
  
With a horrible ache in her immortal bones and suffocating weight to her frame, Raina turns her back on the throne for the first time in centuries to seek the solace and isolation of her private quarters. She has never taken a lover there. Not Lance, three centuries ago. Not Trip.  
  
And now.  
  
He never will.    
  
*  
  
In the end _none_ of it matters.  
  
In the end, the war begun at the joined hands of Skye and Ward sends them _all_ to the Underworld.  
  
In the end—    
  
…the _beginning_ is the end.

 

*

\+ a legion is approximately 5400 men.

**Author's Note:**

> should you desire more headcanons about this universe, i can be found on tumblr at b-isforbombshell. i promise i'm all to happy to fill your head with heartache.


End file.
